


Patience

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, F/M, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Spanking, always a girl castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 08:21:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11309469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: He might be whimpering. A little. Barely more than a shaky breath of desperation.“I’ll take care of you.” Cas soothes.





	Patience

Slender hands wind white rope around pale thighs, up and crossing around her back, stomach, and down again. It’s complicated. Dean’s watched her do it a few times and it’s still mesmerizing. Sitting naked on the edge of the motel bed, he’s got his erection in one hand and a pink jelly dildo in the other.

Cas pauses her work and holds her hand out. Dean passes the toy over and watches her nestle the wide flat base of it against herself, twisting rope around it in some kind of knot to hold it in place before she wraps the rope behind her back again and ties it off.

“Looks good.”

Like an idiot, Dean gives her a thumbs up. He still gets that twisty-tight weirdness in his belly when it comes to this. To getting to see her. Touch her.

She’s an angel of the Lord, for fuck’s sake.

Straightening up, pink cock jutting in front of her, Cas purses pouty lips and tilts her head to the side.

Dean stands, makes a waving motion, “C’mere,” he tells her.

And she listens.

Putting his hands to her shoulders, Dean spins her around. Carefully untangles the knot of her hair, finding the elastic band buried in it somewhere.

Sliding an arm around her waist, Dean pulls her flush, ruts against the small of her back as he untangles the worst of it with one hand.

Cas has a bad habit of stopping mid-sex to undo, then tie her hair back up. It’s perpetually messy, and she never seems to give a damn when it gets in her eyes during a fight, but she has no problems stopping sex when it annoys her.

Fussy angel.

“Here.” Still tangled, but a little better, Dean pulls it all back and ties it up in a sloppy bun.

“Thank you.”

Cas’ voice is rough, it gets breathy and soft when she’s content, like when Dean’s got her clit on his tongue just right, but normally it has worn-out-aint-got-time-for-this-shit quality to it.

Humming as Cas turns to face him, Dean smooths his hands down her arms. She’s supernaturally strong, but her vessel is petite and slender. No, no. It’s not really a vessel now, it’s just her. Jamie’s gone. It’s kind of hard to remember sometimes.

Cas loosens underneath Dean’s hands, stiff posture drooping as she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Dean leans forward to kiss the side of her neck, hands finding the small of her waist, teeth dragging down to the sharp line of her collarbone.

The clean smell of her skin is somehow sweet. She’s warm, neck fluttering with a pulse and chest rising with breath; Dean sometimes wonders if she does that just for him. These little human things. Familiar comfort.

Lifting a hand to his face, Cas curves her fingers against his jaw tenderly before she steps back. Dean straightens, blinks a little dazed at her.

“On the bed. Hands and knees.” Cas tells him.

Spinning on his heels, Dean gets into position, wiggles his butt a little. Sex sometimes feels too big, too much with her. He likes to lighten the mood. Looks at her over his shoulder and winks.

Ok, honestly, one naked and scowling angel of the lord wearing a rope harness and pink dildo is pretty funny. No two ways about that.

But then, she kneels on the bed, shifts between his legs and places her hands on the backs of his thighs to spread them wider. With a sharp movement a sudden pain blooms on his ass.

“Fuck.”

Dean’s arms give out and he drops his face to the mattress. Yeah, no. She’s terrifying. She’s absolutely terrifying and it’s hot as fuck.

Clutching rough sheets between his hands, Dean arches his back deeper and sticks his ass up higher. She trails her fingertips down the furrow of his spine, feather light, goosebumps erupting on his skin and Dean whines.

“C’mon.”

“Patience.”

Groaning, Dean buries his face in the pillow and digs his toes into the mattress. Settles in for the long haul. Wanting never gets him anywhere. Cas has a way of making him give up, open up, hand himself over to her and then, only then, does he get what he needs.

“That’s it.” Soft lips press to the base of his spine, smooth cheek rested to fevered skin and Cas spreads her hands out against Dean’s ass, fingernails prickling.

Kissing lower, open mouthed and warm, tongue tickling, Cas dips between his legs and Dean can’t stop squirming. She licks against him, humming like she’s considering the vintage of his ass, and it makes Dean’s face hot because it’s fucking dirty and he loves it.

It feels like an act of worship, the attention she lavishes on him, and he’s so undeserving.

She’s always tidy, and neat, moving in small motions with her mouth, careful to get her fingers inside him, considerate and gentle. Heat unfurls in his gut slow, slow, seeping through his body as she takes him apart.

When he sneaks a hand under his belly, wraps his fist around his cock, he feels another hard crack against his ass. It stings like a bitch, after-echo of the hit reverberating and Dean bites the pillow. He takes his hand off himself.

“Good boy.”

Strong hands to his hips, she lifts him higher, lines up behind him and presses the blunt head of her cock to his hole. Dean tries to push back on it. Pushes up on his elbows and chases her when she leans away.

“Please, fuck. Cas. Fucking tease.”

“Be still. Accept what I give you.”

Taking a deep breath that shudders through him with tight pulled wanting, Dean makes his hips stop. Curls and uncurls his fingers instead. Lets his head hang between his shoulders as his spine falls into a comfortable position and he stills.

Cas pushes inside with ease, sinks torturously slowly until she’s pressed flushed to him. There’s a curve to his favorite dildo, catches his spot just right, if he rolls his hips just so, he could get himself off. But he waits for Cas.

Her hands stroke up the outside of his thighs, up to his ribs, long smooth movements as she pulls out barely at all then grinds into him. There’s a rhythm to it, graceful and purposeful. It could drive Dean mad.

He might be whimpering. A little. Barely more than a shaky breath of desperation.

“I’ll take care of you.” Cas soothes.

Dean nods his head and sinks lower against the mattress, folding his arms under his head. Cas grips onto his ass and pulls away, long drag out before driving into him again. Barely picks up the pace but she snaps her hips down when she’s all the way inside him, makes it shock up his spine and Dean’s dick is dripping where it hangs.

Raking her nails into the tender skin of his ass, Dean gasps at the sudden rough turn, clenches his whole body and shoves back without meaning to. Cas fucks him harder, jostles him forward with the force of it, spanking him with mean little swats as she does and all of a sudden it snaps. Dean judders, spills on the sheets as he gasps and Cas keeps fucking him until he’s sore, wrung empty, practically sobbing.

He croaks, “Holy shit.”

Dean can feel his ass loose and well used when she pulls out, hand patting gingerly over the stinging skin that’s gonna sport a wicked bruise tomorrow. Dean twists onto his back, hot and sweating and spent.

In a practiced flurry of dexterity, Cas unwraps the rope from herself. Straddles Dean’s lap and bends over him. Bracing her hands on his chest, she dips down to kiss his mouth, slack with awe and wonder. Always, every time.

The white-hot prickle of her Grace tickles under his skin. Just a little. Just enough, and he’s back in action.

There’s some kind of weird Grace-hangover whenever Cas does that to him, mojo’s his dick back to hard. Dean couldn’t give a shit.

She sinks down on his cock, silk soft and so fucking wet, pale thighs spread wide. Blue eyes fixed on him unerringly. It’s intense, just being stared at by her. Dean’s kind of paralyzed sometimes by it.

When she sits up, pets over the small curve of her chest, huffs a loose strand of hair away from her mouth, Dean shifts his hips up off the mattress. Covers her thighs with his hands and presses firmly, the way she likes, digs into muscle and drags.

“There you go sweetheart.”

Cas arches an eyebrow at him, lifts up and fucks herself on his cock and yeah, no. Dean’s not the one in control here. Cas takes one of his hands off her thighs, pulls it between her legs and he’s at least got enough sense to find her clit.

Perky little tits bouncing, Cas flushes the prettiest pink, gleaming with a sheen of sweat in the washed out light of the motel’s lamp. She rides him like she owns him, and Dean can admit, she pretty much does.


End file.
